Past and present
by jibber59
Summary: Struggling to survive, Ezra finds help and support from a most unexpected source
1. Chapter 1

Ezra stared out the windshield at the small dust particles that swirled around his car, regretting instantly his unnecessarily abrupt application of the brakes. The cloud settled slowly, and he grimaced at the coating of sediment that now dulled the finish of his pride and joy. Why had he agreed to come to this God-forsaken spot?

The one-hour drive left him fatigued and aching. It had been a tediously long week of dealing with the bureaucratic side of the end of an ATF operation after a drawn out case and he had been ready for a relaxing day of peace and quiet. Turning down the invitation to come out to the ranch for an afternoon of riding and an evening of steaks and poker had definitely created a bit of concern among the others, but not enough to put anyone into mother hen mode. They had finally come to accept that sometimes solitude was his best method of recovery after a long undercover assignment. Now, as he stretched while slowly extricating himself from the vehicle, he was wishing he'd accepted the offer, and then would have had a decent excuse for refusing to go on what he was certain was a fool's errand.

The early (by his standards) morning call from Jason Peterson was the catalyst for the drive. _"I received a message from your mother through my employer. Nothing wrong, so no worry there."_

_"__And your employer would be…?" Ezra innate suspicious manner kicked into gear immediately. In his experience second-hand messages had a way of being less than reliable. _

_"__Again, my apologies. My employer is Walter Peterson, who also happens to be my uncle. And of course, your mother's fiancé."_

_Mother is engaged again? That was news; not necessarily surprising news, but news nevertheless. "Of course. And may I inquire as to why she is not contacting me directly?"_

_"__Well, as you know, the resort they are at for the month is isolated enough to keep external contact to a minimum. Part of the whole idea of a meditative retreat."_

_Thinking back, Ezra did recall a reference from Maude in her last contact to the effect she would be unreachable for a bit, but since he was more focused on his assignment at that point, he'd let the matter slip from his mind. _

_"__Anyway," Jason continued, "Uncle Walter and you mother are looking at investing in some property north of Denver, and I have flown in to check it out. Maude has asked me to approach you to come along so that you can her know what you think. She clearly thinks very highly of you and seems to really value your opinion."_

_No, but she knows I can see through a con far faster than most people, he thought, which may be why my radar is already going off. _

_Almost as if sensing the hesitation, Jason spoke again. "I was supposed to start this off by saying 'All things being equal my boy, I could use your help'." _

Despite his reservations he agreed to make the drive. After all, it wasn't the first time Maude had recruited him for errands while she was otherwise occupied. Having someone to be at her beck and call was, he suspected, a significant factor in why she had a child in the first place. And this fellow had known the phrase they used to confirm the legitimacy of any third party contacts. Now that he was out here, his suspicious nature once again flared up. The location didn't look like anything Maude would be remotely interested in. Desolate and somewhat cavernous, it certainly didn't have the feeling of the sort of investment opportunity she favoured. On the other hand, if she was playing along as part of some kind of scam, anything was possible. But if that was the case, he had no desire to put himself in the middle of things. Those days were long gone for him – a fact his mother was loathe to accept.

"Hello Ezra. Nice to meet you. Maude has told me so much about you." Clearly not enough, as he hadn't been told about Ezra's preference for formality.

"Good afternoon Mr. Peterson. I have to confess this is not the setting I would have anticipated for mother to chose to undertake a business opportunity."

"No need to be so stuffy, we're practically kin after all." The too slick smile was setting off all of Ezra's alarms, but he couldn't say what it was that felt wrong. "Seems Uncle Walter wants to invest in a mining operation and has information this is the place to do it. Maude is on board so long as you give it the thumbs up, so here we are. The mine entrance is over this way for the once over."

Well, that did sound a little more in character. Words like diamond and gold were music to his mother's ears, so the premise held water. Still, this situation didn't look all that promising to him, but he supposed that was why he was here after all. He headed in the direction indicated by Jason's waving arm, hoping the process wouldn't take too long.

"Might I presume that your uncle has taken the precautions of having assessments and the appropriate environmental reports prepared?"

"Absolutely. This is more about giving them both some peace of mind than it is confirming the value. He's already certain of what the property is worth."

So, a waste of his afternoon, Ezra thought. Still, it would put him on the plus side of the ledger in favours for Maude, not that such matters were of great concern to her.

His mood dropped back down when they got to the entrance. Ezra was officially now tired and cranky. Not only did this not look promising, it looked downright hazardous. Once again, Jason seemed to be reading his mind.

"I get that it doesn't look like much, but about 60 yards in is where they've been taking samples."

Ezra looked at him without bothering to hide the skepticism he felt but took the offered flashlight and cautiously moved forward. Several steps in he could see some truth in what had been said. It was apparent someone had been there, working at something. He didn't think it was all that recent, and from the discard tools, it didn't appear to have been all that successful either. He turned back, starting to voice that thought and froze in mid sentence. Staring down the barrel of a gun tends to have that effect on people.

"I have to say Ezra, I did expect you to present more of a challenge, based on your reputation."

"Terribly sorry to disappoint you, but to be fair, you have confronted me on an off day. Perhaps if we were to reschedule and try this again after I've had a few days to rest…"

"Not to worry – you'll have all the time in the world to rest right here. Rest in peace one might say."

The possibility he could die from embarrassment before Jason could attend to the task did cross Ezra's mind. As someone who prided himself on the ability to read an opponent, not to mention the fact he was a supposedly professional and experienced federal law officer, being caught so thoroughly off guard was beyond mortifying to him. A small corner of his brain was occupied with desperately hoping none of the team ever found out about this. Of course, that would mean his body would never be found, but no plan was without its drawbacks.

"Might I at least be granted the satisfaction of knowing which of the assorted miscreants I have angered has taken such extreme measures to bring about my demise?"

"Oh, this is my own idea. Nothing to do with anyone else, or with your job. Well, not directly."

Ezra arched an eyebrow to encourage Jason to continue. Stalling was his best bet at the moment, although he knew it was still likely a loosing hand.

"Maude is indeed engaged to my uncle, which is more than a bit of an inconvenience to me. I've put a lot of time and effort into working myself into position of heir to his fortune, and her arrival definitely screwed with that."

Ezra's neutral demeanour must have slipped significantly for it to be noted in the relative darkness. "No need to worry yourself. I have no intention of harming her, at least not yet. But, when that time comes the last thing I need is a federal agent and his friends starting to wonder about the accident that I have planned. I decided it is far more advantageous to take you out of the picture now, so the events won't be linked."

"I take it you do not anticipate that my disappearance will stir any suspicions or concerns in her?" He hated to admit, even to himself, that there was a better than even chance Maude wouldn't even realize he was missing, at least not until it was pointed out to her. He didn't want to dwell on what her reaction might be.

Jason's smug smile grew, as did Ezra's desire to wipe it from his face. "I fully expect her to be deeply concerned, and in need of the kind of support that only someone like me could offer. Maybe I'll even hire a private detective to search for you to demonstrate my full sympathies on her loss. Given your line of work, and the number of enemies you have made, I have no doubt people will leap to the same conclusion you did – that someone you busted sought revenge. Doing it like this, so you're missing but with no links to me will be sure to keep everyone distracted for a while. And lest you get your hopes up about my being caught by some kind of fluke, I assure you I have an airtight alibi placing me in New York right now. Not that I expect anyone will ask."

"One would expect you to have concerns that a gunshot will bring this crumbling wreck down around your ears, not that I would object to that outcome."

"Oh, the place will come down alright. That's the plan." Without allowing the gun to even waiver, Jason dropped his flashlight and reached into his pocket to pulled out a compact hand grenade. "Not the most powerful explosive, but more than enough to do the job when I toss it back in." He began working his way to the entrance. "This really is a shame. I have the feeling in other circumstances we might have become friends."

"I'm sure you will understand if I fail to concur with that opinion."

"See – I really can appreciate your humour and style. Like I say, in other circumstances." He took a few steps back, glancing for just a moment to check his footing.

It was all the time Ezra needed. It took only a second of distraction to allow him to release the arm mechanism that held the small derringer he counted on for emergencies. "I think you have gone far enough Mr. Peterson."

The annoying smirk was visible in the faint light. "You shoot me, you still die. Grenade is primed."

He had already come to that conclusion. With no time to think this through, Ezra had not been able to devise a way out that ended well for him, but he could stop Jason from fulfilling whatever fate he had in mind for Maude, and if that was the best he could do, he could live – or in this case die – with that. And, not to put to fine a point on things, he was damned if this bastard was going to go free. "Then it would be to both of our advantages to extricate ourselves from this situation with due haste."

"No. See, I don't believe you'll fire."

"What possible reason would I have to avoid taking such action?"

"You'll be to busy dodging the blast." Jason's movements told Ezra all he needed to know. The idiot was still going to toss the device. Knowing he couldn't stop the explosion Ezra hoped against all odds that Jason's body would muffle the blast as he fired the shot that took the man down instantly. He watched as the grenade dropped from his hand and in an unfortunate turn of fate rolled toward him. Recognizing the futility of his effort, he dove into what he hoped was the strongest part of the mine and shielded his head. The powerful force of the blast slammed him against the wall and the sound echoed in his head as the darkness overtook him.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

Chris was still cursing to himself as he pulled his SUV into Ezra's parking lot. This was most decidedly not how he had planned to spend his Saturday afternoon. He couldn't even say for certain why he was here. A cryptic message left on his cell phone normally would not have been anywhere near enough incentive to have him changing all of his plans. Even the fact it had been from, of all people, Maude Standish wasn't motivation. What tipped the scales for him was the combination of the strange tone of her voice, and the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he listened to the call.

"I truly hate to impose Mr. Larabee, but I haven't been able to reach Ezra, and I know he should be home. Call it a mother's intuition, but something is wrong, and I was hoping you could go by to check it out."

It wasn't just that the words didn't really sound like the Maude they had come to know over the past two years. Mother's intuition was not something she had been gifted with, and this level of concern over the simple fact Ezra wasn't returning her call didn't seem in character either. The notion she would call at all, let alone call him rather than just have the building super check was what set Chris's instincts into overdrive. The final push, the one that messed with his neck hairs, was the tone of her voice. The only word he could use was eerie. Her voice, the hollow sound, all made the call seem almost mystical. It made no sense, but it creeped him out, and he was a man that didn't creep out easily.

After trying Ezra's home and cell number, along with his undercover burner phone just for good measure, he surrendered to his sixth sense. Calling Vin to meet him there he headed out, vowing to himself that if all he ended up doing was rousing an overly tired Ezra from a deep sleep, Maude was going to answer for this in some way.

Vin was waiting when he got there. "Tried buzzing up, but no answer."

"That doesn't mean anything. When he's as done in as he was this week, Ezra could sleep through a stampede of elephants and wake up a day later wondering where the mess came from."

Without bothering to call up again Chris pulled out his spare set of keys and the duo made their way quickly to Ezra's condo. He tapped on the unit door as he unlocked, calling out at the same time.

"You better be decent Ezra, 'cause we're coming in." He looked around, knowing in his gut without taking more than a step inside that no one was home. There could be a million perfectly logical reasons for that, but at the moment Chris couldn't shake the feeling none of them were the real explanation.

"Doesn't look like there has been any kind of trouble." Vin scanned the place quickly looking for any hint of a problem. As was to be expected, everything was perfect. There were just a few indicators scattered around to show the home was actually lived in, and not just the showcase it appeared at first glance. A coffee cup resting upside down on a drying rack, a cloth draped neatly beside it. A book on the coffee table with a marker showing it was only recently started. A notepad sitting at an off angle next to the phone, the top sheet torn raggedly from the pad and the pencil sitting on top. Vin stopped his perusal when he saw that and stepped over to the counter.

He rubbed the paper over the sheet, making the impression obvious. Thank heavens Ezra had a heavy hand when scribbling his notes. "Map co-ordinates? Why would he have written down something like that?"

Not having a reasonable, or even speculative answer, Chris settled for taking the page and punching the numbers into his phone's GPS app. When it came up with a spot in the middle of nowhere he grabbed Ezra's phone and called JD.

"Need you to look up a location and find me everything you can about it." He rattled off the figures.

The younger man knew that tone. Someone was in trouble, and the caller ID gave him a pretty good idea of who. The myriad of concerns that were bouncing in his brain could wait until he had the information Chris needed. Without a word he handed his phone over to Buck, then sat down at his computer and started searching for answers to question he didn't even know.

Buck wasted no time or words either. "What's wrong?"

"Maybe nothing. But Ezra's missing and all we've got is what I gave JD. Vin and I are headed out there, but it would be nice to know what we might find."

"Go. I'll get Nathan and Josiah to meet you, and we'll head out when JD is done. Text you if he finds anything important."

It never ceased to amaze Chris how his team worked. Buck knew what was needed before it was asked, and there was no doubting that whatever the others were up to, it would be dropped immediately and all focus would go to finding what, if anything, had gone wrong. Chris hoped this was a lot of fuss for nothing, but every instinct he had told him otherwise.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

He was alive. It made no sense, and he really couldn't begin to imagine how it had come to pass, but he was still alive. Dizzy, nauseous, and choking on the dust but alive. He kept repeating the word in his mind, hoping to convince himself of the reality.

It was almost to dark to see what was going on, but there was still some light coming from the flashlight that lay off to his left. It was enough to let him know he was in a lot of trouble here, and despite his initial elation at his status of 'still breathing', he couldn't immediately fathom a way out of this predicament.

"Well," he spoke aloud in the hopes it might squelch the dreadful sense of solitude, "I suppose the first concern would be to determine just how much personal damage that little detonation produced." He slowly turned his head, trying to ignore the spinning sensation that went with the action. When that didn't help he closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling to abate before cautiously looking around again, this time without excessive movement. The space he was in was now much smaller than it had been, thanks to the new wall created by the collapse of rocks and wooden framing. It appeared to be a solid barricade, although he couldn't be sure without better lighting on the matter. His eyes landed on the flash that was mere inches from his hand.

"I have the distinct impression this is going to be an unpleasant sensation." He slowly flexed his fingers, relieved to see them move with only a minimal amount of discomfort associated with the action. The satisfaction was a fleeting sensation when he tried to follow suit by moving his hand. Pain shot through his wrist and up his arm. Seeing as how there was no one in the area to pass judgement, he didn't waste his limited energy on trying to hide the shout of pain. Catching his breath, he tried the move again, this time focusing on keeping the wrist as immobile as he could and moving the arm instead. The pain persisted, although at a slightly more tolerable level. His fingers wrapped around the barrel and he was able to spin the light around. Lifting it was a bit more that he was up for at this point.

Carefully letting his head settle back to the ground, he wished for a moment the light hadn't been there. What he could see showed no promise whatsoever. Staring at the pile of rubble, depression set in quickly as he registered there was likely no way out. Another effort to lift the light reminded him of the other reason he was trapped. He was in no condition to be rescuing himself from this mess.

The pain in his arm wasn't as sharp as it had been. A deep, dull throbbing described it more accurately. Maybe the wrist wasn't broken after all, but it sure as hell was in no shape to be moving pebbles, let alone the rocks that entrapped him. Lying as still as he could, he closed his eyes and began to take inventory of the other injuries.

The head wound was obvious, making him question how long he had been out for. Not that the answer really mattered, but he did have to wonder if anyone had even noticed he was missing yet. Unlikely, since he had been rather adamant in his insistence that all he craved for the weekend was peace and quiet. The others were likely to honour his request, and he would be left alone for the duration. Even if they tried to call him, they would assume that in his quest for solitude he had turned off the phone. If only he had done that before Jason's call.

At best, it would be mid morning on Monday before anyone even began to speculate on his whereabouts. Not that doing so would help. There was nothing he'd left to say where he was going, and the odds that his phone's GPS would be traceable out here were to ridiculously low to even calculate.

Opening his eyes he glanced over again to the pile that sealed the tunnel. Was Jason there, or had he been far enough out to be free of the debris? Not knowing was going to eat at him. The lingering doubt meant he couldn't even take comfort in knowing he had managed to ensure his mother was out of danger. "Maybe I could leave some kind of note." He immediately berated himself, both for wasting the effort it took to speak and for the stupidity of the thought. Having nothing to write with or on made the idea of leaving a message foolish. Knowing that it, and he, would likely never be found, made it ludicrous.

He went back to making his mental list instead. While his left arm was injured the right seemed to have survived the impact. It was sore, but nothing that seemed tortuous. His chest was another story. A deep breath, he quickly determined, was out of the question. The pressure and tightness spiked his concern level even higher. If he had broken ribs – a solid possibility – then there was an excellent chance something had been, or soon would be punctured, and that would not end well. Even without that happening he could feel the dust and grit from the blast settled in his mouth and throat. Constant vigilance would have to be maintained to ward off the growing desire to cough. It was painful enough to merely try to clear his throat.

The uneven floor was made more uncomfortable by the chunks of rock that now made up his current resting place. He tried to ignore the small voice in his head referring to it as his final resting place. Clearly he'd landed, or at least settled, after some of the blast debris had landed. He could feel a particularly large stone under his shoulder blade, digging in a making life even more uncomfortable as the pressure of each small breath seemed to push it deeper. At least it eased up on his lower back.

The reality of the thought struck terror to him. There was only one reason the pain would stop that way. Just like there was only one reason that he could feel no pain or even discomfort anywhere below that rock. He fought back the surging swell of panic as he reached with his good hand to try to pinch at his leg. His fingers could feel the action, but his leg didn't.

"No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening." He pinched again, with the same result. Determined to prove wrong what he knew to be true, he drew his arm back, intending to use it to try to leverage himself to a seated position. The fear that he felt over his health was quickly overtaken by the sound he heard.

"I really would suggest that such an action on your part would be counterproductive at this juncture." Ignoring the pain, he clenched the flashlight and swung it toward the voice, freezing it when it landed on a pair of boots just a few yards away.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

Silence could be extremely oppressive, but neither Chris nor Vin felt much like talking. Scarcely a word was spoken beyond the sharing of a few theories and even that subject dried up rapidly. Chris doubted it was a proper use of the siren and lights, but they did shave several minutes off the drive time by using them, and he was more than willing to deal with any consequences. He had a feeling that would be the least of his concerns. On arriving it was easy to see that Josiah and Nathan had beaten them there. Seeing Nathan waiting next to Ezra's car was bad enough but watching the way he was pacing set of all the alarms in his mind. Vin was opening the car door before the vehicle even stopped.

"Where is he?"

Nathan shook his head. "We think we know but praying we're wrong." He held a hand up to stop Vin from speaking as he turned his attention back to the phone he was holding. "Yes, full rescue team. And medivac standing by. No idea for certain how many might be in there, but there are two cars here, and nobody around."

Chris and Vin both went pale at the words. Nathan used his free hand to point up the slope to the mine entrance. Even from their location, the men could see the area around it was looking dodgy. Leaving the healer to finish his call, they sprinted up, stopping when they were close enough to see inside. They could hear Josiah's voice before they saw him.

"Ezra, are you in there? Can you hear me at all? Just make some kind of noise Ezra. Just a sign."

"This cave-in was recent."

Chris didn't doubt Vin's judgement, but looked at him for an explanation.

"Been dry around here for a couple of days. You could see how dusty it was when we pulled up. But here at the entrance way there's moisture. The dirt is damp, like it's been blown out from the mine where it would be wet."

It made a frustrating amount of sense. Time to try to challenge Josiah's conclusions. "What makes you think he's in here?"

Josiah turned, his face reflecting the anxiety he felt. "It's Ezra – where else would he be?" He took a calming breath that fell far short of it's purpose. "We've looked around the area and the only footprints we saw came this way; nothing up higher or lower. And the steps track only on the way in. We aren't as sharp with that as you are Vin, so please look for yourself. God willing, you'll find something we didn't."

The experienced tracker didn't move. "Don't think I really need to. Saw the prints coming in. Don't see anything heading out."

"Look around anyway." Chris wasn't about to write that option off so quickly. "A lot of these old mines have more than one access point. Ezra and whoever the hell he was with might have gone out another way."

"And not gone back to the cars?" Josiah turned back to the rockslide and began digging in.

"Stop. We don't know what we're doing here and bringing down any more of this isn't going to help anyone. And yes, they could be elsewhere and just too shaken up to get back. Start looking for anything Vin. We'll be out in a minute."

It made sense of a sort, so Vin turned and left. He didn't have much hope in him, but it was better than standing there looking at the devastation inside. He tried to block out the image of Ezra pinned, trapped under all of that. Tried not to think about what a horrible end that would have been for the man.

"I'm not stopping Chris. We don't know how deep this goes. Ezra could be just a few yards away from us, and I for one do not plan on leaving him there."

"Nobody is leaving anybody Josiah. But moving too fast could bring more of this down, either on us or him. For all you know he's lying hurt on the other side. Creating another slide sure as shit is **not** going to do him any good. Let's just slow down enough to think this through."

Reluctantly, the big man stepped back. "There should be some emergency supplies in the trunks out there. Lights will be part of that. We'll need those to work through the night."

"OK. We'll get supplies together and see what we can do. Nathan was calling for help, so it shouldn't be long until we get this done right."

Wordlessly Josiah led the way out, heading straight for his vehicle and began his search of the trunk. Nathan joined him, and when their hands were full they headed back, barely acknowledging the arrival of Buck and JD.

Seeing the quiet determination on the two men told the newest arrivals all they really needed to know. "Damn it Chris, Ezra was supposed to be at home doing nothing. How does he manage to find trouble so easy?"

"If I had an answer to that we might be able to do something to stop it. You find anything out JD?"

"Not much. There are a few old mines around here. Was never part of the old gold rush but there were some silver strikes in the area. There has been some talk of opening up some of the mines again, but nothing in this stretch."

"Find out who owns this?"

"Bought a little while ago by a Walter Peterson. Nothing on file about him that connects to Ezra on first glance at least. I've got the computer doing an automated search for more info." JD swallowed before asking the next question. "Where is he Chris? Is Ezra in there?"

Not answering, Chris just looked back at the mine entrance. He tried to come with something that made sense. Why would his man have been out here? Granted a gold mine, or even silver, was the type of thing that would intrigue Ezra, but not to the point he would make such a stupid move. He hoped.

"Run a check on the other licence plate JD."

"Did that as soon as we pulled up. Comes up as a rental. I'll try to call the agency, but given the time, they're likely closed."

"Then find someone to open it. I want to know who Ezra came out here with, or who he was meeting, or who followed him or whatever the hell explanation there is for this." His was almost shouting by the end of the sentence, and JD scurried off to do his bidding.

Buck stepped in. "Steady Chris. We'll figure this out."

"How?"

Before he could answer Nathan stepped out. "We've got enough light to work, at least for now. Rescue workers will have better stuff, but we should be able to work clearing the stuff that's obviously loose."

As much as he wanted to dive in himself and get, quite literally, to the bottom of all of this, Chris moved to veto the plan. "Not without shoring things up. Whatever brought that down probably made it all unstable. We can't help anyone by getting trapped ourselves."

Buck favoured him with a humourless smile. "Just how do you propose selling Josiah on that plan."

"He doesn't need to. He's right. Can't promise how long I'll be patient, but I'm not going to put our boy at any greater risk." Josiah's face showed clearly how difficult it was for him to say that, let alone to walk out of the mine. He sat heavily on a large boulder at the entrance. "But God help the man that tries to stop me the moment we can start in."

With nothing to say that could answer that, Chris merely nodded and walked away, slowly making his way up the slope Vin had climbed a few minutes earlier. He watched as Vin paced out the area, never lifting his eyes from the ground. If there was another way in, any chance at all, he'd find it. Chris never ceased to be amazed at how the slightest thing out of place could lead the tracker to trails and clues to which others, himself included, were oblivious. His worry now was that this time was different. Not only were the stakes higher, but with the sun already dropping behind the hills, there wasn't much more time to look. And Vin was going to be impossible to console if he missed something that later proved to be crucial.

"We can get more light up here Chris. I can keep looking." Vin smiled fleetingly at the surprised look he got. "Don't have to have Ezra's gift to read what you're thinking. Least not on something like this. No, I'm not giving up. But I don't think I'm superman either. I'll take any help I can get."

"Nobody's giving up. You watch yourself up here. Don't need anyone else in trouble." He tossed over a flashlight he'd picked up from the kit. "Rescue team should be here soon – they're based close by."

Vin just nodded and returned to his task.

JD was pouring coffee out of a large thermos. Somehow, they were never without the caffeine plasma they all need to function. Chris passed on a cup for the moment, knowing he'd likely be drinking more than enough of it over the next several hours. He didn't imagine any of them would be getting any rest. Looking at the dejected faces he decided the time had come to try to boost morale a bit.

"You know, we are all making one hell of an assumption. Maybe Ezra and whoever weren't anywhere near the collapse. For all we know these mines go back for miles."

"Doubt it Chris." JD had kept going on his research. "Like I said, these were active tunnels at one point, but mostly just test runs. From what I could find, none go back in more that a few hundred yards at best."

"Probably why that Peterson fella bought them in the first place. Untapped resource. Still doesn't explain what Ezra would be doing here. Nothing does." Buck stared a Chris for a moment. "I get that you got pulled into this because of the call from Maude, but why'd she do that?"

"Been wondering the same myself. Don't see where she could have known something was wrong."

Josiah put down his cup. "Maude called you? How?"

"What do you mean how? The usual way."

"Not likely. Ezra was mumbling about her before this last job started. She'd let him know that she was going to be out of contact for a while – some kind of retreat for a month at least. He wondered why she would bother to share that with him when she often went months without bothering to so much as text. I was worried the interaction was distracting him, but he shrugged it off the way he always does."

Chris stood quietly for a moment. "Suppose her plans could have changed. I mean it is her on the message." He reached for his phone to play it back to the others, scowling as he scrolled through. "Son of a bitch. Must have erased it somehow. Damned cell phones."

"You're certain it was her?"

He stopped himself from snapping back at Nathan. The man was just being thorough after all. "It sounded distant. Like a long distance call used to. Static on the line as well, but what she said removed any questions. I mean, who would lie about being worried like that?"

"Yeah," Buck agreed. "A fake call like that might be used to lure someone – like Ezra – out here, but to send someone to help? That's just nuts."

Whatever comments were left to be made were silenced as the sound of approaching vehicles took their attention. A large truck and an SUV drove towards them, and with them the best hope they had for finding out just what the hell was going on.

The anger that flared when the rescue squad arrived was slow to dissipate.

"One truck? Four men? That's it?" Chris had wasted no time in confronting the leader of the team.

"You must be Larabee. I'm Harry Simmons. I know what we've got here is less than ideal. Unfortunately, you aren't our only disaster right now. There was a cave in near Boulder. We know for a fact there are 16 men trapped there. Resources have to be allocated according to need."

"You saying Ezra isn't important enough?"

"Calm down JD." Nathan was trying to be the voice of reason, even though he fully agreed with the frustration. "They've sent what they can, and they've got us here to help as well. We'll get him out." One way or another, but he saw no need to voice that thought aloud.

"Safety protocol doesn't allow you folks to come in." Simmons looked up at the more than determined faces staring him down. "On the other hand, sometimes rules were made to be broken. Give us the time we need to make things as secure as we can in there, then we'll all work at getting this done. Deal?"

After reluctantly stepping away from the scene, the men from Team seven watched in awe as the rescue team went into action. Equipment and lights were set up in record time, with a precision that was beyond efficient. As impressive as it was, it still felt like it was taking forever and each second that ticked by was only serving to build their unease.

Simmons finally stepped forward. "I know you all want to get in there, but you need to hear me out. We've got things braced, but there are no guarantees. There's risk here, not just of you, but for your friend in there as well. We move slow and easy to make sure nothing gets worse while we try to make it better."

"We're wasting time." Buck took a step forward and was stopped by a heavy hand on his chest.

"One more thing. The way you feel about him – that's how I feel about the men on my team. I am not going to let you do anything stupid that puts any one of them in any unnecessary danger. If you don't understand that, then stay the hell out of my rescue operation."

Buck took a half step back, looking over to Chris who nodded to him, knowing what was being thought. "Like I said, we're wasting time. Tell us what to do to get this job done."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

Ezra didn't move. It wasn't simply that he couldn't due to his injuries. He was far too shocked to react. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard a soft chuckle. There was something familiar about it, but nothing he could place. He focused again on the only thing he could see, the boots. Whoever was standing in them was almost out of sight, situated just at the far edge of the glow from the flash. Given that the unexpected company showed no sign of moving, he'd have to find the strength to lift the light if he wanted to see anything more.

He supposed he should be taking comfort in the fact he knew the boots didn't belong to Peterson. Jason had been wearing sneakers. He'd noticed that when they first met and remembered thinking it was a more logical choice of footwear for this terrain than his own dress boots had been.

"Who are you? What are you doing in here?" He got no answer. "Please understand, it isn't that I don't appreciate the rescue, but your caveside manner leaves a considerable amount to be desired." The stillness remained on the stranger's part, but the talking had irritated Ezra's throat. He coughed, reacting instantly to the action as paid cut through his chest.

"Perhaps it is in your best interest to remain as immobile as possible for the duration of your entrapment."

The voice was southern and had the tone of someone trying to be encouraging, but not entirely certain he knew how. It made no sense that he felt he should be able to recognize it.

"I don't appear to have much choice on that matter. Please. Who are you?"

"A friend."

Fighting the impulse to laugh at such a preposterous response, Ezra settled instead for a single word. "Improbable."

Two steps back put the boots out of range of the light, and Ezra instantly regretted his comments. "No. Don't leave. Wait. Can you leave? Can you get help?"

"At this juncture I cannot extricate myself from our location."

_You couldn't just say 'no'?_ Ezra thought.

"Apologies. It is not in my nature to provide succinct responses."

Ezra's eyes widened. How did he know?

"Your more standard neutral expression is not servicing you well at this time. Understandable given your current predicament."

Carefully clearing his throat, Ezra risked speaking again, even though the effort was draining. "As much as I deplore repeating myself I must ask again – who the hell are you?"

Several seconds passed before a soft sigh was heard. "I suppose there really is little purpose at this point in maintaining the secrecy."

He took a few steps forward, once again stepping into the weak light. Ezra raised his gaze above boot level. Above the dusty but stylish boots he could make out a pair of dark trousers. Even under these conditions he could see they were quality goods. The jacket he could now see was of the same quality and tailored to fit the owner perfectly. The only flaw he could see in it was a dark stain on the front. No, two stains, and what looked to be another on the sleeve. Forcing himself to focus, he gasped softly when he saw a small hole at the centre of each. About the size a bullet would make.

He blinked several times, convinced his eyes were misinterpreting the signals they were getting. The rising sense of confusion wasn't based on the discovery of bullet holes, not that wouldn't have been sufficient reason, but on the inexplicable fact he had just registered - what he was looking at was not solid. It was there, no question about it. But he could see beyond the form to the rocks and walls behind. It was impossible, but the man who was talking to him was, to be generous in the description, opaque. Not quite translucent, but close enough to be scaring the hell out of Ezra right now.

He wracked his brain for an appropriate comment to make. He would have settled of an inappropriate one at this point. But the final step forward removed any chance for coherent thought as he came to the realization he was staring up at his own face.

He had no clue how much time passed before he could speak again. "Clearly I am in far worse condition than I estimated. Hallucinations cannot possibly be an encouraging sign for my survival. No doubt due to the concussion. Or oxygen loss. Perhaps escaping gases? More likely I am still unconscious, and this is all just a dream, or more accurately a nightmare."

"If you find it easier to accept that as the explanation I will not attempt to dissuade you of the delusion."

"Oh Lord. Do I really sound that pretentious?"

"My companions used to prefer the term pompous, or on occasion arrogant. I tended to favour ostentatious. Grandiose works equally well."

Ezra closed his eyes again, hoping when he opened them this apparition would have vanished. He wasn't surprised when the strategy failed him. "This cannot be happening."

"Why not? You have never been one to deny the existence of a spirit world."

"That does not mean I expect my own – essence – to be able to carry on a conversation with me. It makes no sense."

There was a soft chuckle. "Whatever makes you presume the afterlife reflects in any manner the logic and reason of the so called real world?"

"You are telling me, expecting me to believe, that you are a ghost? My ghost? Dressed like that?"

Hearing his own laugh come from this spectre brought a whole new level of surrealism to the moment. "It is my manner of dress that most disconcerts you? Would it help if I were to inform you that my death happened, oh my, nearly 145 years ago?"

OK, add another step on surrealism ladder. "Not especially. How can you be my ghost if you have been a spirit for that long?"

"I never stated I was your ghost. And why are you still insisting on applying the laws of your world to a far more ethereal plane?"

"My world? So I remain amoung the living?"

The being sat on the ground next to him and Ezra felt a wave of hysteria approaching as he noted he was well and truly beside himself. His distress was becoming unmanageable and the alternate Ezra was beginning to realize that.

"Yes, you remain on the far side of that bridge. I would suggest you make every effort to calm yourself if you seek to remain there."

It took several minutes for Ezra to settle himself to the point he felt he could speak again. "If I am not dead, or dying, why are you here?"

"I suppose one would say my role, as I see it, at this point is to ensure that your status does not change."

"Unless unearthly manifestations are capable of moving rocks I fail to see how that is possible.

A side smile greeted the comment. "No, those days are long past I am afraid. Merely appearing here is taking considerably more effort than I have been used to expending for some time."

"Then why…?" Ezra tried to turn as he spoke and felt the tightness in his chest intensify. The corresponding gasp only made it worse.

"Stay still. I may not have the medical knowledge of – well, of one of my colleagues – but I can assure you I am cognisant enough to know that you need to make every effort possible to ensure your injuries do not worsen."

"Colleagues?"

"I dare not presume to call him a friend. That would tax credibility and insult the man. He possessed far too high a standard to consider the likes of me as one of his close companions. Suffice to say I was not shunned from that world and did, over time, earn the opportunity to associate with some comfort."

"And what you have learned from this doctor –"

"Healer. He was sadly never given the opportunity to rise above that designation."

Wonderful. He was about to ask for a diagnosis from an hallucination whose second-hand knowledge came from an uncertified medic. On the other hand, Nathan had no formal title, and he would gladly place his life in the man's hands. Besides, it wasn't as if he had a great number of options to choose from.

"This healer's teaching leads you to believe I have a chance to survive this?"

The silence stretched on long enough for Ezra to begin to fear the answer, which made no sense to him. After all, he was only talking to himself, and this mirage in front of him was nothing more than a creation of his own obviously injured mind. Just as he was about to restate the question, it was answered.

"From what I can ascertain, I believe that your injuries are survivable, provided you remain as still and calm as possible, and assuming those men on the far side of the rocks work with speed and efficacy to release you."

Ezra turned sharply, shouting out again at the pain the movement caused. "They are here? Someone is here?" He didn't wait for an answer but began shouting out as loudly as he could. "Hello? Help! Can you hear me?"

"Stop! Which part or remaining as still and calm as possible to you fail to comprehend?"

"But we – I – have to let them know I am here."

"Really? They are here. They are working. What could possibly lead you to believe they will not expend every imaginable effort to secure your rescue? Have you ever known them to merely give up, particularly when the life of one of their own is in the balance? Armageddon itself would not slow the endeavour."

Ezra tried to calm himself. He – that other he – was right about one thing at least. His team didn't know the meaning of the word quit. He didn't know how they got here, but the fact that they were was cause enough to believe he had a chance. He looked back to his companion.

"What can you – what do you know about my injuries?"

"As I said, I am no doctor, but I don't think you are a severely injured as you believe yourself to be."

Swallowing deeply, Ezra dared to speak his greatest fear. "I cannot feel my legs."

"Again, I profess no expertise, but I can tell you that I have seen them moving. I would wager it is pressure rather than permanent damage causing the lack of sensation from which you currently suffer. And as I do not like to gamble, I rarely wager anything unless I am certain of the outcome."

"You leave nothing to chance?" He was surprised by the broad grin that appeared at that comment.

They remained silent for several minutes as Ezra strained to hear something, anything, that would confirm for him that help was in fact on it's way. He didn't understand why he was putting so much faith in something that was clearly nothing more than a product of his own mind, desperate to provide some kind of solace in in final moments.

When the silence became worse than his concern over talking to himself, Ezra spoke again.

"So, this healer of yours. How did you become acquainted?"

The apparition leaned his head back against the wall. "Not in one of my finest hours, I can assure you. The tale is too sordid to repeat, but I will share that it was, to my unending surprise, the beginning of the best thing that could have happened to me."

"That all sounds vague and noncommittal."

"Thank you. It is comforting to know that my gift for obfuscation has not deteriorated over the years.

"Years. Yes. One hundred and forty five I believe you said."

"Give or take."

The implied request for more information was ignored. Ezra supposed that was simply because his mind was too exhausted to create the story needed to go with the information.

"And from your appearance…"

"Please, I would like to hear your interpretation of what you see. You are, after all, a man who prides himself on his skills at observation and deduction."

"My historical knowledge of the period in question is limited, but I shall do my best. The timing would put this a decade or so after the Civil War. Enough time for the states to have begun healing. You are a southerner, but from your look, and the fact you are here, one who chose to join the migration to the west. The boots certainly appear to be western – definitely suited to riding. The clothing is far more elegant than was worn by a ranch hand or cowboy at the time – at any time – and I would hazard a guess that such career options do not exactly fit in with your, or is that my, character."

"Let's call it ours, shall we."

That sent another inexplicable chill through him, but he moved forward. "The apparent quality would reflect someone successful in whatever business it was he was doing." That earned a smile from the subject. "Or at least trying to create that impression." The scowl was as expected.

"I succeed often enough, thank you."

"I would wager – to use your own term – that by succeed you mean won. Your manner suggests you were a gambler, and likely a good one. Allowing for the absurd notion that we are in fact one in the same, I would acknowledge that to be a shared trait."

"Not one in the same. Not exactly."

"What then?"

There was a hesitation. "That is a question far more easily asked than answered. Let us complete your evaluation of me, and then we can attempt to address this issue."

"It really is completed. The only thing unaddressed is your death. The manner would appear to be evident."

He was a bit surprised at the sad look that appeared. "Yes, unfortunately the facts speak for themselves. I survived scarcely a minute after being shot. Our preacher didn't even get to me in time to offer a prayer."

"I'm sorry." He hadn't expected to feel a sense of grief at the revelation.

"My reaction is not over my loss, but at the guilt if left the others. Even a healer as skilled as ours could do nothing to alter the result of a bullet to the heart. The marksman of our team cursed and blamed himself for not taking out the man who shot me, despite the fact there had been no opportunity for him to do so. The three men who weren't there felt their absence was responsible for my fate. The leader of our little band of lawmen took his own absence as the primary cause in all of this, and to my astonishment to my death the hardest."

"Lawmen? You were – what – a sheriff or deputy? So not a gambler?"

"Oh, assuredly gambler was my avocation, as well as my vocation. A calling if you will. Lawman was merely an aberration that lasted for a period far longer than anticipated."

"What happened?" Ezra seemed to have forgotten for the moment that this was all his own fabrication.

"Details are insignificant. A robbery attempt with the miscreants attempting to take refuge in the saloon. When it appeared the young woman who was the manager was about to be drawn into the fray in a most unpleasant manner I intervened without thinking my actions through. It was, as I said, over quickly."

"Sounds significant to me. And noble."

The answer was a soft snort. "I believe you should rest quietly for a while. Clearly you are more delusional than I diagnosed."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

"Everybody freeze." Simmons' tone left no room for questioning and despite an unwillingness to waste even the briefest moment, Chris and Josiah both responded in the same manner as the rescue team and stopped all movement. They had lost track of the time and of how long they'd been shifting stones. The men had set up an assembly line of sorts. A variation on the old fashioned bucket brigade that was allowing them to clear stones away from the blockage. It was slow work, but it was the safest option they had. Mechanical efforts were out of the question; there simply wasn't enough stability. The same issue arose when the suggestion of drilling through from above was raised. Not knowing where Ezra was, or what condition the rest of the mine was in meant the risks simply didn't balance out.

Chris moved toward the crew leader ready to challenge whatever was causing the delay. He froze at what he saw when he looked down. A hand was sticking out into the gap made visible by the removal a large rock. He swallowed hard, not breathing. There was no need to check for a pulse. The skin was translucent with the sallow colouring that only death could offer. He stared, not certain if he was unable or merely unwilling to move. He could feel Josiah step behind him and knew at least some of the others had moved in as well.

"There's no ring." Josiah's voice was quiet but filled with relief. "If it was him, we'd be seeing the family ring. There's no ring."

"But if they were together…" JD questioned.

"We don't know they were. We can't know anything till we move this shit. What are we waiting for?" Buck stepped next to Chris. "Go outside. Take Josiah with you. You need some fresh air. Me and Vin will take over in here."

"He's back?"

"He has checked every inch of this place from above for even a hint of a way in. The maps might show another entrance was here once, but it is long since buried. He'd have found it. And he's mighty pissed off about that, I can tell you."

"Can't find what ain't there." JD reasoned.

Chris understood. "That's not much comfort right now. Come Josiah. Buck's right."

"Wow, don't get to hear that often." Forcing a grin onto his face, Buck moved into the spot Josiah had vacated and the work began again.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Permitting himself a moment to believe this experience was real, another question came to mind. "Did you die near these caves? Is that why you are here?" That seemed like too much of a coincidence. Ezra laughed to himself. Yes – coincidence was the thought that stretched the bounds of reality.

"No, I am here because you are. I am never far from your side, or in the past, from the sides of the others who have hosted this soul."

Others who hosted the soul? Was this soul his or not? Did he even have one?

"Are we - we must then be in some way related?"

Another pause followed. "Not strictly in the sense you interpret. I was not burdened with the guilt of leaving a child behind - at least none that I was aware of. There were others in our group who I'm sure could not safely make the same comment. Our Romeo undoubtedly had progeny in abundance."

Ezra refused to be distracted by the effort to change the subject. "If we are not of common stock, how do you explain -"

"As I have tried to impress upon you, the afterlife and all of its consequences and machinations cannot be explained. At least, not by me. We are related in spirit - in ways that far supersede something as insignificant as blood line."

He could not begin to grasp anything that was being said, but Ezra was certain the chill that ran through him had nothing to do with the cold ground or the dampness he felt. His other version seemed to interpret it differently. "While you are not yet on my side of life, you are far from out of danger. I would advise it is in your best interest to expend as little energy as possible."

This time, he welcomed the new topic. "It's not as if I have plans to run a marathon in the next few minutes."

"I cannot imagine why you ever did complete such a task in the past. It does not reflect well on our past incarnations who had much greater respect for the life of leisure than you appear to have." He smiled, showing off the gold tooth and sending another quick chill through Ezra. "My associates were pleased to see the growth you have exhibited over the years, although I find the progression to be a less than accurate portrayal of our true nature."

"Associates?"

A wistful look crossed his face quickly, only to be hidden behind the mask of impassiveness again. "How can I best explain this to you? Over the years spirits – souls, essences – whatever descriptive you elect to assign – find where they belong. They gravitate to be with those that suit them – support them. Complete them."

"The ideal mate?"

That brought another small laugh. "I suppose for some, likely most, that is the path that is taken. But for others there is a different bond. A different form of family that is created. When they find each other, wonderous things result."

"From that I can presume it is more than a coincidence that your past has included an association with a healer, a preacher and a marksman. Dare I hazard a guess that there was a stoic leader, a lothario with a heart of gold and an eager but somewhat naïve novice in your band?"

A small shrug was the only answer he got.

"Possibly it is the concussion, but I am still having some issue fully grasping the concept. You are me, but you aren't? There is a soul that simply keeps moving from one 'host' to another. If you are that soul, and in me now, how can you be here?"

"As I indicated, I am always in close proximity."

"That doesn't exactly clarify matters."

"I have neither the spiritual acumen nor the philosophical nature to fully explain the process. Our preacher would have been the man to have such a discussion with. I will share what he told me before he left and hope that answer suffices. He inferred, from circumstance and teachings, that a certain amount of energy remains when the body ceases. I will leave it to you to name it as you please. This energy, like all energy, is depleted as it is used, and once gone, signifies the true end of one's existence."

Ezra couldn't help but think that Josiah would have been fascinated to meet this particular preacher. The philosophical and theological discourse would have been entertaining to observe. "So a preacher that did not believe there was a heaven or hell?"

"He was far from your standard cleric. But no, that is not the outcome he taught. When the energy is gone what remains is, for lack of a better term, the soul. That is what then ascends, or descends, to the final reward."

"And in the interim, it seeks a to find a living, breathing form to manifest in." Ezra wasn't entirely certain he wanted the answer to the question that came to mind, but he knew he had to ask. "Forgive my bewilderment but this is a rather complex concept."

"Trust me, I am fully aware of the convolusions, contractions and confusion of the situation."

"If - or I suppose I should say when, you do pass over - when your soul passes over that it - well..."

"What becomes of you? Rest assured you will not suffer or in any way lose yourself when that time comes. I have watched others reach that point in their journeys and it has never done any harm to the soul of what you choose to call the current host."

"So, it divides yet remains intact? But how is such an occurrence even possible?"

Ezra could see the anger, but also an underlying fear when his counterpart finally lost his temper. "Why is it that the living assume that the dead have all of the answers? If I understood all of this, if I had any certainty on the matter, I may well have been willing to risk determining what the remainder of this adventure holds."

It wasn't hard to draw a conclusion from that comment. "But instead, you have elected to avoid the final step in the process."

"I know now that it can't be avoided, but I had always intended to postpone the inevitable for as long as was possible. I do not anticipate a favourable outcome. Additionally, I spent the better part of my life trying to expend as little energy as possible and could determine no reason to alter that characteristic in the afterlife."

"The sort to avoid manual labour, were you?"

The question was met with a cockeyed stare. "Yes, although the reference was actually menial labour. How did you know?"

"Just one of those phrases one has in their mind, but never could figure out the source of. I don't doubt there are a few others I can blame on you."

Ezra waited for a response but got none. Looking at his counterpart, he had an idea of why. "I realize this might be a foolish question to ask of what is for all intent and purpose a ghost, or more likely hallucination, but are you alright?"

"It has been quite some time since I have made any effort to remain manifested for such and extended period. Brief dalliances in your world are generally all that I can deal with at this point."

"You are fading." When did he start to accept this spirit nonsense?

"No, merely tiring. We have been here for several hours you know. And you can be exhausting."

This time it was Ezra who smiled. "I have no doubt Chris and the others would agree with you on that sentiment. Can you – is it possible for you to rest and recuperate?"

"Once depleted the energy takes a considerable period to replenish itself, and it never fully returns. I cannot say with any certainty that this has not overtaxed that limit."

"Can't the others help?" Ezra's first thought was that the silence was due to the fading, but the look he saw told him otherwise. "They are gone, aren't they? I know you indicate some were, but you are alone, aren't you?"

"Hardly the first time in my existence. It is a feeling I am more than familiar with."

"They left you?"

There was a look of dismay at the notion. "Heavens no. Abandonment is not in their nature, and I assure you running out on a comrade is simply not something they are – were – capable of even considering. The deeds we do on this side of the coin deplete our energies. The men I was fortunate enough to deal with had no reluctance to take that risk to help and protect others in the years since we have passed. And their energy base was lower, likely due to the risks and actions taken while they were alive."

"I don't understand. The more good you do, the more you are punished for it?"

"Yes, it makes perfect sense that you would see it in the same manner that I did. It is not a punishment, but a reward. The faster your services are done, the sooner you achieve your final goal. People who are the protectors and heroes amoung us have no fear of that fate. I had a great deal of energy stored when I passed. The only person I can think of with more would be mother dearest, and I doubt she has used much of it since. She undoubtedly intends to remain on this plane forever. The sad truth is, I think I would have liked to be able to do the same. What does that tell you?"

Ezra was about to answer when a sound stopped him. They both turned their gaze toward the pile of rubble.

"Ezra? Ezra? Can you hear me?" Vin's voice was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. There was a small landslide of loose stones and suddenly a shaft of light broke into the room. "Ezra, answer. Please answer."

He moved to speak, but no sound came out.

"I don't understand. We've been talking."

"No, communicating. You long ago lost the strength to actually speak."

"But, they need to know."

"They won't cease until they are through and have liberated you from this catacomb. Surely you have no doubt of that."

"It isn't fair to make them worry any longer."

The gambler stood slowly, fading further even with that simple effort. He looked down at the desperate, almost pleading face below, and sighed, knowing he really had no option left to him.

"Yes Vin. I am here. Hurry, please." On the final word, he faded from view.

Ezra turned his head from where the figure had been and then looked to the shaft of light before closing his eyes.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"We need to get enough of an opening for one of us to get through." Nathan was adamant. "You heard how weak he sounded. If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd swear we just heard a ghost talking."

"That isn't the best way to do this. It's going to slow the recovery down."

"Nathan is right Harry. We don't get in there and get him some care, it likely isn't going to matter." Chris wasn't sure how he knew that, but he had no doubt about the truth of the statement. "We don't have to get it much bigger than this for JD to wiggle through."

"Hey, I'm not that small." He looked up at the opening and remembered what was at stake. "Yeah, I'm that small. Give me a boost."

Simmons blocked the way. "Not saying we can't do it, but let's take a couple minutes to open it a bit more and secure it. We're too close to have anything go wrong now. Besides, you need to put together some kind of medical kit…" He stopped talking when Nathan handed over a first aid bag. "Anything you guys can't handle?"

"Waiting." Buck picked up another rock and got back to work.

The ten minute eternity ended with the sight of JD's feet disappearing through the gap. A mild curse was heard as the young man landed harder on the other side than expected, but he was on his feet again an instant later. The only light in the room was from the hole that had been opened, so he immediately turned on the high beam flash, then cursed louder with much more creativity.

"Buck, you have got to stop teaching him that kind of language." Vin admonished before turning his attention back to the task of widening the opening. Nathan was calling into the mine.

"How is he JD? Tell me what you see."

"More or less flat on his back. His head was bleeding some. Stopped now. He's lying on some rocks. God Nathan, he looks awful."

"Pulse JD. And how is his breathing?"

JD was almost afraid to touch Ezra. What if he reacted badly? What if he didn't react at all? He gently placed a hand on his chest and gasped in relief at the movement he felt underneath. "Breathing is really shallow, but regular. Pulse is weak and a bit on the slow side but seems steady." He looked at Ezra's face and smiled widely. "Hey Ez. You waking up? Nathan, he opened his eyes."

Quick prayers were opened as the men kept working. As the whole widened, Vin crawled through over the objections of the rescue team.

"Hey Pard. You scared the shit out of us you know." He used a damp cloth to wash away some of the dust around Ezra's mouth. The moisture was like fine brandy as far as Ezra was concerned. "I'll get you some proper water, but not much to start. And we've got an oxygen unit here. Going to hook you up in just a minute. You just let us do the work. Ezra, can you understand me?" A faint, almost imperceptible nod followed, but Ezra didn't seem to be able to focus. His eyes moved around the space, searching for something that apparently he couldn't find. He moved his lips, but no sound came. Vin took a guess. "The others are outside. They're all working on getting you out of here Ezra. Just be a few more minutes. You just take it slow and easy."

JD knelt beside them with the portable O2 unit and gently placed the mask. Ezra tried to pull away, still making a weak effort to speak. "No Ez. Just stay still. Vin's right. We'll have you out of here and in a nice soft hospital bed before you know it. Just rest for now. Just relax."

They both could see it was the last thing Ezra wanted to do, but they watched as he closed his eyes and drifted off.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

Miracle. The doctor used the word more than once, and none of the team was about to dismiss the truth of the statement. He was weak and dehydrated and definitely bruised and battered, but he had somehow avoided any serious injury. The main concern was the concussion, but even that seemed to be much milder than might have been expected given the concussive force of the blast and the duration of his isolation.

The only question around his recovery was his state of mind. He drifted in and out of awareness for the first 36 hours. Not surprising under the circumstances, but there was some concern about the ramblings that accompanied the periods of semi-alertness. It was as if he was talking to himself. Calling out for himself actually at times. The staff psychologist said that was to be expected. _Being fearful of one's imminent demise, lacking the self-confidence to confront the issues that prospect would bring, while isolated from any other human contact was bound to make someone more introspective about life and death._

"Guy clearly doesn't know Ezra." Was Chris's response to the suggestion.

Buck agreed. "He doesn't do introspection, and he certainly has no lack of self confidence."

Hooey, JD's response, was the most polite word any of them had used.

When Ezra did finally really wake up, he professed confusion as to why he had been in such a state. "Dreams and fevered ramblings" was the only explanation he could offer. At least, the only one he chose to share.

"Well, I sure get it Ezra." JD was hoping to put his friend at ease over the matter. "I mean, I'd have been scared out of my mind trapped in there all alone like that."

With a chuckle, Buck added his support. "And for someone who loves to yammer away like you do - well that must have just been some kind of hell for you."

"Yes, such a scenario certainly would have been an ordeal." Chris couldn't help but suspect that Ezra's smile held a secret, but decided it was one he had no business intruding on.

By the third evening, Ezra was ready to walk out, and no longer cared about the fact he might have to do it wearing nothing more than the hospital gown on his back.

Chris foolishly applied common sense. "Doctor isn't ready for you to leave yet."

"I have no concerns over the doctor's state of preparedness on the matter. I am ready to leave, and that is all that matters."

Nathan snorted. "Not hardly. Ezra, you have a concussion. You have cracked ribs and were just damned lucky nothing got punctured. You breathed in a ton of dust which doesn't help your breathing issues. The swelling has only just eased up on your back enough to give you full feeling back in your legs. Throw in the cuts and contusions and the like and you should be spending your time counting your blessings, not trying to cut and run."

The argument clearly was not impressing the impatient patient.

"One more night Ezra." Vin tried to reason with him. "I promise to come by first thing in the morning with decent clothing, real coffee and a proper breakfast. You'll be out of here before that nurse with the cold hands comes to give you another sponge bath."

"I would be able to avoid her by leaving now just as well."

"Yeah, but Nathan would probably drag your ass back here and you'd be stuck even longer."

Ezra fidgeted in the bed, unable to feel settled or comfortable. Josiah had the feeling that it had very little to do with the swelling, bruises and bandages.

"The danger is over Ezra. You and your mother are both safe. Jason obviously isn't going to be able to do anything."

The team had all been every bit as enraged as expected when Ezra was able to detail what had happened. Buck and JD both made several comments about Jason's fate, all in poor taste and all completely appropriate. Contact was made with the authorities who could ensure that Maude and Walter were both safe and would remain that way.

"Yes, I know. And, as Mother has not surprisingly ended her retreat vacation I was able to contact her. She claims, and I have no reason to doubt her on this matter, that she never shared our code phrase with Jason. She did, however, inform Walter that it was a method he should use if he wanted to ensure I trusted his communications, and there is every reason to believe that either through eavesdropping or subterfuge, Jason learned of it."

"Safe to assume you are working on a more foolproof system?" Nathan asked. Ezra nodded succinctly.

"So, guess you'll be taking some time off for the wedding."

JD glared at his housemate. "Well of course not Buck. You really think she could bring herself to marry the uncle of a man who tried to kill her son for crying out loud."

"Our young associate is correct, at least in part. I have been informed the engagement is off."

"See – told you."

"Yes, although I believe it has more to do with the discovery the mine was a worthless investment that seriously depleted Walter's financial assets than it does anything that went on in that location. Such minor infractions would scarcely register on her radar. Oh, and just to confirm what I believe you already ascertained, mother assures me she did not place a call to you expressing any concern over my lack of contact. In fact, she seemed to find the notion of such action somewhat laughable." Ezra only hoped he had succeeded in keeping his expression and tone neutral as he shared that news. The looks he got a moment later from the others told him he had failed miserably.

"You have some other explanation for the call then? I grant it was hard to make out everything, and it sound like the worst long distance call I've ever had, but I'll swear on whatever you want me to that it was her voice on the message."

Ezra looked up, certain in his own mind that it had been Maude who placed the call. Just not his Maude. Whether she did it for him, or for her son, he would never know. He hoped it hadn't cost her more energy that she was able to spare. "You have no idea how long a distance it might have been."

Knowing it was a fool's effort to try to understand Ezra when he got cryptic, Chris ignored the interruption to make his point. "She was damned worried and wanted me to check on you. And, if that call hadn't happened, we never would have got to you in time.

"He's right Ez. No way you'd have held out another 48 hours trapped in there."

Vin glared at the man after seeing Ezra blanch at the reminder. "Buck, you have the tact and sensitivity of a platoon of tanks."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry – but you get what I meant."

"Yes, I do. And as I believe I have failed to do this so far, allow be to express my deepest gratitude for your efforts."

Josiah could tell something still bothered him. "What else is still gnawing at you?"

As tempting as it was to do so, there was simply no circumstance under which Ezra could share with them what had transpired in that space. Ignoring even for a moment that he didn't begin to understand it himself he knew that at best they would dismiss it as the delusions of an injured man. At worst, it could be sufficient cause to have him declared unfit for duty. He knew both options had a ring of truth that he would have no way of denying.

Instead, he went with an alternate true, yet somewhat less certifiable, explanation for his melancholy attitude. "I think I simply need to be outdoors."

"Well there's a sentence I never thought I'd hear from our most citified agent." Buck grinned. "And, it is something we can easily take care of." He strode over to the window, raising the blind as high as it would go. The effort to bring in fresh air failed when he discovered the windows were sealed. "No problem. We'll grab a chair and take you outside."

"The gesture is appreciated, but that is not precisely what I had in mind."

Chris understood. "You mean real outdoors. I can understand that. You want to spend a few days at the ranch when Vin breaks you out of here tomorrow, that's fine with me."

"Thank you Chris. You may come to regret the offer."

Despite the performance he was putting on, or perhaps because of it, Nathan could see how tired Ezra still was and made the none to subtle suggestion that it was time to call it a night. They were gathering their jackets and preparing to leave when Ezra spoke again.

"Has anyone been back to the mine?"

Vin shook his head, then stopped. "Well, just to seal it up. Make sure no one wanders in and gets into any trouble, not that something like that could ever happen."

Ezra turned his gaze out the window and seemed to be miles away. Chris knew that look, and the trouble a pensive Ezra could get into. "You can't tell us you want to go back out there?"

"What? Oh, no. Of course not. I was merely wondering what happened after we left."

"Like Vin said, it was sealed up." Buck didn't get was Ezra was thinking about. "I mean, what else could have happened?"

"You are correct, of course. What else possibly could have happened?"

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_TBC_

Epilogue

He still stood in the same spot where he'd watch them carry Ezra from. There was no need to follow. He knew the man would survive. More than just survive. Those men simply would not accept any other outcome any more than his friends would, given the opportunity. As they walked clear of the entrance, his perspective on the tunnel began to change. The nature of the light shifted from the bright light of the sun to a softer glow. A glow he had been avoiding for over 145 years. He'd seen it six times, and each time one of the team had left him. Josiah had tried to assure him when JD had been the first man through that it was the gateway to better things, and when the time was right, they'd all walk that path. Ezra knew better. It was a gateway, but he had no doubt there were two roads on the other side, and as fond as he was of warmer climates, the heat where he was headed was more than he wanted to face. So he resisted, each and every time. As the others used up their energies and left, he maintained his vigilance, ensuring he never pushed that limit.

He had come close to surrendering a few times, most recently when Vin finally left. He'd completely exhausted himself, fighting to maintain the balance of helping when needed and staying with Ezra, not willing to leave his friend alone. Helping to save his own incarnation in a battlefield fight had been the final act though, and as much as Ezra hated to see him go, he knew the man had more than earned his rest.

But this one, this current version of him, had proven to be more than he expected. With the others – the foolish youngster who barely made it into his teens, the arrogant outsider who laughed at prohibition laws and the gangsters associated with them, the con artists who played both sides of the law – all of the lives he'd watched, he had been able to stand back when their actions finally caught up with them. But now – this Ezra had been another matter. This Ezra had finally broken through all of the baggage of every past life to be worthy of the help he knew he had to offer. To be worth the price.

So, thanks to all the effort he'd used there was simply no energy left to fight his fate any longer. A small part envied his mother's ability to remain detached from the need for any emotional connections. He could recall the time when he too felt no need to do anything beyond what was best for Ezra P. Standish. He tried to convince himself those had been good days, but on those rare occasions when he capitulated and was honest with himself, he acknowledged that the last years of his life were in fact his best. It didn't make up for what he had done – for the way he had been and the people he'd hurt, but it was still, in its own way, better. And perhaps those final few years were the reason he had been able to stick around in this veil between two worlds long enough to see how his spirit – and he knew Josiah would call it his soul, fool that he was – had been able to grow. This last incarnation was something to behold. A good man, better than he had ever been or could have imagined. He only wished this man's residual doubts and self-deprecation had disappeared for him over the years. Still, he knew the current incarnations of the men who made up the remainder of the assemblage would continue to batter away at that problem. They had done well so far.

The light was getting brighter. There was a fleeting moment of panic during which the thought of turning and leaving crossed his mind. It wasn't the fact there was nowhere to go, or nothing waiting for him that drove it from his thoughts. It was the dim recollection of a promise made several lifetimes ago. He might have been willing to delay his fate, but he was not going to run away from it. Not ever again. Taking a deep breath he set his shoulders back, straightened his vest and pulled at the cuffs of his shirt. If he had to meet is fate, he was damned it he would do it with anything short of the style and aplomb he had strived for throughout his life. He walked forward until the light almost blinded him, then if faded with startling speed. He blinked to clear his eyes, not convinced they weren't playing some kind of trick on him. Six figures sat on their horses; a seventh horse stood to the side with them.

"Took your sweet time getting here Pard."

"Ezra has never been on time for anything in his life. Why would you assume death would change that?"

"Be nice Buck. He's clearly in shock at the moment."

"That's not shock Nathan. That's pure unmitigated confusion – right son?"

"What are you all complaining about – I've been waiting the longest for this."

"So Ezra," the sixth rider came forward, passing Chaucer's reins to him, "you going to mount up and join us, or not?"

"Mr. Larabee, the pleasure would be all mine."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

The end.


End file.
